


King and Lionheart

by Amateur_Sketch



Series: The Wolf Series [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: F/M, Muscogee Nation, Native American Character(s), Native American Romance, Native American/First Nations Culture, Past Child Abuse, Romance, Sexual Content, Western
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-10-03 19:19:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17289869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amateur_Sketch/pseuds/Amateur_Sketch
Summary: At a younger age, Charles lost both his tribe and his mother, never learning the fate of either. After her father's death and her mother remarried, Nila Tanner, a Muscogee Native, was forbidden to speak her language, forced to move far away, and stripped of her identity. Together Charles and Nila will travel the countryside, discovering new places, helping those in need, and finding love in each other.





	1. The Pit

**Author's Note:**

> Muscogee in this chapter: Eyota meaning Great. Pronounce: Eh-yoh-dah
> 
> Short chapter, but I don't plan on this being a long story.

**1908**

A full moon cast its glow over the land, giving her enough light, as she navigated through the Cumberland Forest. Her silver mustang pinned his ears back and slowed to a lope. She gave his neck a pat and urged him onward. Somewhere an owl hooted and she practically jumped out of her skin. Shadows moved from tree to tree, a fox screamed, and a crow cawed. This journey was looking to be a mistake the deeper she traveled into the woods.

She wouldn't be the first to admit the dark frightened her. It always had. At nineteen, Nila should have outgrown her silly fear, but as time went on she was only able to hide it. When she was younger, her step-father thought locking her away in a dark closet would cure this but it only worsened it. When he opened the door, he found she'd wet herself and for that, he punished her. Later that night, her mother pitched a fit when she found out what he'd done to her daughter. When her brother came home and found out what had happened, all hell broke loose. She didn't remember much, mostly because she blocked it out, but in the aftermath, her brother was thrown out of the house. She never saw him again.

As much as she loved her mother, Nila never understood what she saw in that white man. He controlled everything in the house that was built by her father and ruled it with an iron fist. Her own father had been a kind, soft-spoken man, who wouldn't harm a soul and it was this kindness that got him killed. In her darkest hours, she hated him for dying, causing her family's heartache and her step-father to take his place. The guilt would always take its place though. Then she'd miss him and the hurt would start all over again. Whenever her mother fought with the white man in her home, she would cuddle with her little brother(the only good thing that came from the marriage) and tell him stories of her father or sing to him. Nila hoped her brother would be okay with their mother while she was away. At least she could take solace in the fact that the man was dead.

Which was why she was on this journey in the first place.

Michael Daniels died in New Adeline, Ambarino on top of his favorite whore in a hotel room. Her mother cried and screamed, but Nila thought the tears were fake. At least she hoped they were fake. Her brother cried but she did not. It was Michael 's fault she had traumatic memories, it was his fault she flinched at loud sudden noises such as yelling or banging or when someone jerked their arm up abruptly. It was his fault Nila was forced to leave her home of Muskogee, Oklahoma and live in West Elizabeth where the racism towards Indians was much worse and she couldn't leave the house without facing harassment. It was Michael who striped Nila of her identity by forcing her to change her name. No longer was her name to be Nila because in his eyes, her Muscogee name was a sign of savagery but at least he gave her the freedom to chose her own. As a way of keeping her identity, Nila picked Victoria because in the Muscogee language Nila meant victory. One name she refused to give up was her surname. Surnames were a colonizers' concept, that's what her mother told her once, but Tanner was her father's and she told Michael that Daniels would never come after her first name.

But right now as she navigated through the dark forest, she didn't feel very victorious. She closed her eyes for a moment and imagined her older brother or her father riding beside her. It melted away some her fears, giving her the edge to keep going.

_Father, I hope your spirit is with me tonight because I need you now more than ever. I'm so scared but Mother needs me._

Her mother was too overwhelmed with grief to claim Michael Daniels' body, so Nila had to be the one to do it. She took a train at first, but the farthest she could go was Valentine. Now she was forced to ride horseback the rest of the way. She cursed herself for not taking the train to Annesburg. At least someone was kind enough to point her in the right direction. She was glad she listened to her mother and took her horse, Eyota. It would be the last bit of advice, she'd take from her mother.

I'm sorry, Mother. I love you, but I can't stay home any longer. Your husband is dead and I don't have to worry about him hurting you anymore. Once I send Michael's body back to Blackwater, I will truly be free.

She'd have to make camp soon. The mare's stamina was slowing down and Nila's eyelids grew heavy.

"Just a bit further, girl."

Thirty minutes later, they found even ground near a creek and made camp. She hitched Eyota on a low hanging branch and fetched some water for her canteen. As she warmed by the fire, she felt eyes on the back of her head. Turning around, she saw nothing, but that eerie feeling wouldn't leave her.

Somewhere a coyote howled and foxes gekkered. Her heart leapt in her throat as her imagination ran wild. She wanted to jump onto her horse and keep running but the poor thing would drop dead before they passed the Grizzlies.

Nila rolled out her sleeping bag and nestled in. Because of the location, she was in, she wasn't worried about her fire. She closed her eyes, but despite being exhausted, sleep wouldn't come to her. All she could think about were the invisible eyes that watched her from deep within the forest.

At least her horse was calm. If Eyota was spooked, then she'd know trouble was out there. The mare lowered herself to the ground and gave a sigh of contentment. With Eyota sleeping peacefully, it gave Nila some comfort as she dozed off, her dreams filled with better days.

The next morning was freezing. She didn't want to get up but needed the early start if she wanted to make it to New Adeline by sundown. She sat up and shivered as an icy wind swept through the land. The fire had long burned out, leaving only hot, glowing embers. She found a can of half frozen strawberries in her saddlebags and placed it on the hot embers to thaw it. After feeding and leading Eyota to water, Nila ate her food quickly before saddling up and riding for the mountains.

The crisp mountain air made the mustang frisky and stubborn as galloped towards the Grizzlies. The shorter way was through the west. She was warned, however, that the West Grizzlies were mostly ice and snow and she hated snow with a passion. The East Grizzlies were beautiful from what her neighbor told her. It would take longer, but she'd rather look at flowers than freeze to death.

She rode passed Fort Wallace, hearing hounds barking on the other side. The large structure intimidated her, because of the horror stories she heard of when it came to imprisoned natives. She herself had not committed any crimes or provoked them in any way but she was still afraid of what they might do if they saw her. She spurred Eyota to pick up the pace, only allowing the mount to slow once they passed the fort.

They made it to Bacchus Station, crossed the tracks as a train came barreling down on them and continued on towards another forest. This one more unsettling than the other one. But this was daylight, it shouldn't be frightening as the one before.

Eyota stopped dead in her tracks. Her ears pinned back and she sniffed the air. Then Nila heard it. A cougar's scream pierced the dead silence. Nila frantically looked around for the beast that hunted them. Near the tracks, she saw the beige pelt creeping towards her. Eyota reared up, her rider clutched the reins for dear life, and the cougar charged. Horse and rider raced across the forest. Nila withdrew her Lancaster repeater and twisted in the saddle. The cat was gaining speed, the horse was growing more fearful. The Creek woman fired a shot but missed. She was never good at shooting from the saddle. She shot at the cougar again, still missing. Nila swore through clenched teeth and fired again, this time the bullet penetrating the ground in front of the predator. It wasn't backing down. Wolves were easy to scare but not mountain lions.

The mustang let out a whinny and began to buck and kick.

"No, no, come on, girl, not now!" Nila pleaded.

She was air born within seconds and hit the ground, knocking the wind out of her. Her repeater skidded out of her reach. She unsheathed her knife just as the cat pounced on her. Blood trickled from her left shoulder as the cougar's claws sank into her flesh. With her free arm, she stabbed it in the leg, withdrew the blade, and struck it in the neck. It hit an artery and the cougar began to bleed profusely. It jumped off of her and backed away. Nila reached for her Scottsfield revolver and shot it twice in the torso. It fell to the ground, blood pooling underneath it. She shoved the gun back into her holster and gave a sigh of relief.

"Now where did that stupid horse go?"

Turning into the direction of where Eyota ran off, she took three steps before the earth went out from under her. She dropped several feet, hitting her head hard enough that stars danced across her vision. She hissed in pain as she touched her head.

"If it's not one thing it's another! Shit!." She looked around for something to grab onto and spied a thick root sticking out. "There we go."

She jumped, missed, and tried again. This time she was successful. Swinging her leg up gave her a boost and she pulled herself to the top, ignoring the pain in her arm. She was almost home free until three white men came into view. They were half-dressed in overalls and two were barefoot. The two standing before her looked malnourished and other to her right was massively obese. She didn't like the way they surrounded her, but maybe they were friendly?

"Um… hello? I need help. I've fallen in this hole and-"

A kick to the head sent her backward and back into the hole. She held her forehead and gasped at the pain. She wasn't bleeding but it left a nasty bruise.

"Looks like we got us a squaw in the pit," one of the scrawny ones said.

"Never had me an Indian before," the obese one said. He smiled and revealed his cracked yellow teeth.

Oh shit, these are the Murfree Brood I was warned of.

She still had her knife and revolver. Her body was shaking with anger and fear, but she had to fight back. Her step-father was worthless for the most part, but he did teach her to use a gun and knife.

"I know how to shoot!" Nila warned.

"So do we, girl."

She reached for her gun at the same time they did. Her shaking hand made it hard to aim properly.

_I can't show fear. I have to be brave._

She heard other voices. Shit, there were more of these filthy hillbillies.

One of the scrawny ones leaned down into the hole. "Don't worry, girlie, we'll get ya out of there. Then we'll have some fun. Won't we boys?"

She swallowed. This can't be how it ends.

Her finger curled around the trigger. All she had to do was squeeze it.

"Make her dance!" The Murfree leader shouted.

The obese Murfree shot close to her feet. She jumped back and yelped in surprise, her gun slipping from her hand and clattering to the ground. The men above her laughed and pointed their guns at her. She was against the wall now, after they fired at her multiple times.

"Stop that!" she screamed.

They responded by laughing at her misery. She wanted to shoot back but with multiple guns on her, she found herself frozen. She looked down, ashamed that her fear was paralyzing her.

_Come on, grab the gun and shoot! Stop being a fucking coward!_

But she couldn't.

_I'm going to die in this pit and it's all my fault._

"Let's get her ba-" he was cut off mid-sentence as an arrow struck him in the throat.

He grasped it and blindly pulled, in a desperate attempt to remove it. He fell forward into the pit, barely missing Nila.

"What the hell was that?" the obese one cried out.

Nila looked down at the corpse at her feet and felt sick. She'd only seen a dead man once in her life and that was her father. Memories she'd suppressed long ago tried bubbling to the surface. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed herself against the cold dirt wall. Above her, men screamed in pain as more arrows penetrated their bodies. Then bullets quickly replaced arrows in a crackling boom.

More bodies fell into the pit, making sicking thumping sounds. She peeked for only a split second but was enough for her to grow sick at the sight of a man with half his skull blown off.

The fighting felt as if it were going on for hours, but later she'd learn it barely lasted two minutes.

"It's a redskin! He's come for the girl!" a Murfree cried.

"Let's get out of here, there's probably more of 'em!"

It was only when silence filled the forest did her body relax.

"Hey, you in the pit, are you hurt?"

Nila opened her eyes and looked up. The light was behind him, making it hard for her to see his features, but whoever he was, was a large individual.

"I don't think so! I mean… I am but…"

"Hold on," he called back.

He disappeared and seconds later a rope flopped into the pit. She tied it around her waist and grabbed on as he began to pull her up. She made it to the top, grateful to be touching cool, green grass. She'd roll in it had it not been for her rescuer standing over her.

"You okay?" He asked, taking her by the hand and hauling her to her feet.

She brushed off her shirt and pants. "I'm fine, thank you."

The man that stood before her was tall, muscular, and very dark skinned with scars on his jawline. His long black draped over his shoulders and noticed the two feathers tied to it. He was an Indian mixed with black, probably from the Seminole tribe. She found herself having odd feelings the longer she looked at him.

His eyes drifted to her shoulder where spots of blood stained her shirt. "That's a nasty wound." He touched it, moving the ripped material away from the dime-sized hole in her shoulder. "Did they do this?" His tone had a touch of anger to it.

She pointed to the carcass by the bushes. "No, it was a cougar."

"I see." His tone softened. "Well, you can't go around with a hole in you. Come on, I have a first aid kit in at my camp." He turned and began to walk away, expecting her to follow.

But Nila remained still. Should I trust this man? He did save me. Still, what if it's a trap?

He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "You coming?"

She nodded but still didn't move. "I'll come with you, but first, I need my horse." She knelt down, retrieved her Lancaster from the ground, and slung it over her shoulder. "She was spooked by the cougar."

He scanned the forest, then agreed. "Fine, we'll find her. Then, we tend to your wounds."

So she followed this strange man, unaware of the adventure their meeting would take her on.


	2. Teeth and Claws

His camp was near a place called Cotorra Springs, an area that Nila found to be beautiful. Close to the camp, Eyota and a black overo paint that belonged to the man munched on the grass together. They found the silver mustang deep in the forest, away from danger. It relieved her to have found her mare safe and sound, but she also wanted to scold the horse for throwing her off.

Sitting by the fire, she allowed him to tend to her injuries in silence while she held a cool rag to her head. She wanted to strike up a conversation, but the words were caught in her throat. In Muskogee, she was sociable and had a group of friends. All of that was taken away when she was forced to live in Blackwater and Michael's abuse worsened.

She flinched when he touched the inside the hole left by the cougar. He gave an apology as he continued to clean it.

"I'm Nila Tanner," she said. Saying her real name for the first time in years lifted a weight off her shoulders she didn't know she was carrying. It was as if she could truly be herself again.

"Charles Smith," he replied, not looking at her.

"I'm grateful for your help. I fell in that pit and I thought I could escape but… well, you saw what they did."

He placed a strange paste on her wound, making it sting. She winced as the pain increased.

"It's ginger root and buttermilk weed. The stinging means it's fighting off infection. It'll help it heal faster, too." He could clean and place the paste on it without needing to remove her shirt, but now he had to bandage it. Which meant… "You'll, uh, need to remove your shirt." Was he turning red too? She couldn't tell. "Only part of the way," he added quickly.

She did as asked, exposing flesh to the cold and thankful for the slip she wore under her shirt. Charles worked quickly, keeping focus on his task. He placed the gauze on the injury and wrapped it. Once he finished, she moved her arm around as to make sure it wasn't too tight and then slipped her arm back into the sleeve.

"Do your parents know where you are?" he asked, placing his first aid kit in his saddlebag.

She couldn't help but find that funny. "My parents are the reason I'm out here."

"I see. You want me to take you back a town or train station?"

"Not unless you're willing to travel all the way to New Adeline." She removed the cloth from her head, gave it a few shakes to cool it off, and then placed it back on her bruise. "The train would only take me as far as Valentine. I have to ride horseback the rest of the way. So since you asked me, I get to ask you, what are  _you_  doing out here?" Even if conversing with others didn't come easily to her anymore, once she talked, it was hard for her to shut up at times. She hoped that wouldn't be the case when talking with this man.

"Tracking a grizzly that's been causing problems in the area. Almost had him until I stumbled across those Murfrees."

"Sorry, I ruined your hunt."

"Oh, I didn't mean-"

"I know, I'm only teasing." She flashed him a smile before turning her attention to the fire.  _Nila, stop trying to flirt with the stranger!_  She scolded herself.  _I'm not flirting!_ "Listen, since you helped me, maybe I can help you."

He glanced at her as he fastened the saddle bag. "Can you hunt? What I'm going after isn't some young cougar. This bear is bigger than most and it's killed two people already."

Nila removed the cloth again, feeling better than earlier. Even the stinging in her shoulder was fading. "Of course I can hunt! I'm good at tracking, too. Look, I know it looked bad when you found me but… that was different. Animals are less scary than humans." When he still looked unassured, she continued. "I can use a rifle, I can skin an animal, and I can fish. I'm not completely helpless."

"Have you ever hunted a bear?"

"Me and my father once hunted a young black bear."

"If you come with me, then you must stick beside me."

"I told you, I can hunt. You don't have to worry about me." She stood, slipping on her jacket and slinging her rifle over her shoulder. "Come on, let's get us a bear."

As she walked south, he followed and stopped her. "The bear is that way," he said, pointing to the east.

"Oh… right."

They rode side by side through a charred and eerily quiet forest. Most of the trees were burned, making them look as if they were large black spikes sticking straight up out of the ground. They passed burned remains of woodland creatures, whose tiny legs didn't carry them fast enough out from the flames.

_I could see the fire from Blackwater last week, but I didn't know it would be this bad._

"Let's leave our horses here. Carry on, on foot," Charles said.

Nila nodded and dismounted. After shooing their hoses away, she followed Charles, who was much quicker than he looked. Seeing the bow he carried made her wish for one of her own. If she made it out of this hunt alive, she would ask him to show her how to make one. Her father had a bow once, but her mother buried it with him.

She focused on her surrounding, searching for anything, such as a trail.

"See anything?" she asked.

"Nothing."

"I'm gonna check over there. Don't worry, I'll stay in earshot." She pointed to the southwest.

He only nodded in reply and kept following his own path.

* * *

The footprints were in a set of two but separated into two paths after thirty steps. Kneeling down for a closer look, Charles noted that one owner of said tracks walked on the side of their right foot and the shoes the individual wore were slender. This had to be a woman, he thought. He followed that one, knowing a predator would most likely go for the slowest runner. Eventually, he found the large paw prints as he followed the footprints. Judging by the large bear tracks that walked over them, the beast had been stalking them for a time before finally going in for the kill.

At a broken tree he found blood mixed in with the ash. This wasn't a good sign. It looked bad from the start, but now it felt hopeless he'd find whoever came out here alive. He followed the trail of blood, a mix of droplets and smears, hoping that maybe, just maybe it wasn't too late. Then he found the shoe, a woman's just as he thought. He picked it up, noting the weight. This told him that the foot was still inside.

Setting it down, he took his bolt-action rifle. He scanned the ground, found the tracks, and check to make sure the woman was in his sight. He could see Nila not far from him, following a trail of her own. He thought of going after her, in case she ran into the bear, but even from a distance, he'd see them both from the height he was at. Turning back, he followed the tracks quietly.

Blood soaked the forest floor and splattered on the leaves of ferns and bushes. He spied strands of blonde hair and pieces of dark blue fabric further down the path. He knelt down, touching the fabric. It was soft but unfamiliar to him. Six feet from the hair and torn cloth, he found her or what was left. Shit. Her blonde hair streaked with blood, over half of her face eaten away, and her stomach torn open and devoid of any internal organs except for a few feet of lower intestine. He shook his head in sorrow, wishing he'd found her sooner. This would be a hell of a thing to tell her family.

He stood and looked for the large tracks. After wandering the area for a minute, he picked them up again, heading southwest. He quickly looked in Nila's direction, seeing her follow the trail of footprints that most likely belonged to the man. He guessed she'd find the body soon, which she did. He noticed she froze in place, refusing to go near it. Did she notice the bear? Didn't look like it.

As he took a step forward, he noticed a bulk of brown and beige fur burst through the forest and run right for the native woman. With his gun gripped tightly in his hands, Charles charged forward, calling out to Nila.

* * *

Nila could see the body of a man dressed in overalls but didn't approach it. Her fear of the dead kicked in, freezing her place. The wind kicked up again, the scent of fresh blood wafting her way. The smell made her sick and regret agreeing to this, but she had to swallow her fears if she were to make it on her own. Her legs felt like heavy stumps as she slowly made her way to the mutilated man. She made it five paces before stopping.

_I don't want to be here. I want to jump on my horse and run away._

Behind her, she heard branches snapping, heavy breathing and grunting. Later in life, she'd look back on that moment and wonder why she didn't realize sooner that something was coming for her, but at that moment, her mind was still recovering from the shock of that body.

" _ **NILA, BEHIND YOU!"**_

She spun around, saw Charles running for her and the bear. The distance between her and the massive beast was just enough that she fire two rounds into it, but it was quickly closing in on her. She fired off her repeater twice, but it only pissed off the bear. Reaching to her side, she withdrew her knife just as its large paw came down on her injured shoulder. She cried out and hit the ground.

Charles called out to her again while firing off a few rounds from his rifle. It didn't stop the bear from biting down on Nila's arm. She screamed when she felt a pop in her shoulder and the numbness that traveled down her arm. She squeezed her eyes shut, fearing that she'd lost a limb.

She felt herself going airborne and hit the ground hard. She sputtered and coughed as she tried to regain the air in her lungs. More gunfire sounded from the left of her. Opening her eyes, she caught sight of Charles and the bear.

Somehow he was quick enough to dodge the bear's blows. She was in awe of his agility and envious that she herself was not as quick as he. Sitting up, she took out her revolver and fired off several rounds into the bear's flank. It spun around to face her and gave a roar. It stood on its hind legs, its paws clawing at the air. She fired again, hitting the beast in his gut despite her hands shaking from the pain that overwhelmed her.

The distraction was long enough for Charles to put a round into the bear's neck. Blood gushed from the wound as it slammed its paws down and cried out in pain. Seeing the look of agony on the creature's face, she almost pitied it. Almost.

It stumbled, gave another cry before falling on its side. She thought it would instantly die, but instead, it laid there, thrashing about and moaning in pain. Pushing herself up with her good arm, she limped her way to the bear. Its head banged the ground as it slowly died. Taking out her hunting knife, she plunged it deep into the bear's chest, striking it in the heart. It stretched out and then went limp. She breathed a sigh of relief and sheathed her knife.

"That was intense," she said.

When she didn't get a response, she turned to Charles who was staring at her arm. Looking down at it, she saw it dangling awkwardly.

"Your arm is dislocated. Can you not feel it?"

She could now. That numbing feeling quickly faded, replacing it with a tingling sensation that was slowly starting to hurt.

"We're going to have to pop it back into place," he said giving her a sympathetic glance.

She swallowed, then nodded. "Go ahead and do it."

"This is going to hurt."

And it did. The pain she felt hurt more than the bite of an animal. She gritted her teeth, trying her best to bite back a scream caught in her throat. Feeling the joint roll back into the socket was also painful, but within seconds she felt relief, though it still throbbed. It hurt to move, making it almost impossible helping Charles with the process of skinning and field dressing the beast.

They placed the pelt on Eyota's rump, while Charles took large cuts of meat and stored them a burlap sack. She followed him to a town called Annesburg, a coal mining town that was poisoning their water supply.

All eyes were on them as they trotted through town. Nila kept her focus on the back of her horse's neck to avoid the harsh stares some of the folks gave her. They hitched their horses in front of the sheriff's office where Charles informed him of the two young adults were lost their lives because of the bear. After two deputies took the pelt off the mustang's back, Nila followed Charles to the doctor's office. The man was reluctant to treat her, but once a deputy informed him of what she and her companion did for the town, he obliged, though reminded them of his hatred for Indians. She felt it too when he tended to her wounds.

She left the office with her arm in a sling and a bottle of pain pills in her hand. Doctor's orders were to keep it in a sling for the next few days, which would make riding difficult.

"The train station is that way," Charles said once they were away from prying ears. "I suggest you get on and head back home."

She was slightly offended by this. "Why would I?"

"You've almost died twice in a short amount of time. Whatever you're doing, you're not cut out for it."

She glared at him. "You don't know me or what I'm capable of at all and even if I wanted to go home -which I don't-, I can't. I have something to handle and then I can finally be free." She could feel a knot tightening in her throat.  _Don't let me show weakness in front of this man._  "I  _have_  to do this. I'm the only one that can." Before he could reply to her, she turned away and mounted her horse. Which was not easy with one arm. "Thank you for your help earlier today, Charles, but I need to be going. I'm already running late. Goodbye."

He reached out and grabbed her saddle horn. "Wait, I… I'm sorry. What is it you need to do?"

The wind blew her long hair in her face, stinging her eyes. She swept the hair away and said, "I'm going to New Adeline to retrieve my step-father's body. My mother's too distraught to do it herself so now it's up to me."

"I'm sorry for your loss," he replied.

She rolled her eyes. "You're the only one between us who feels that way. The man was a bastard." It was the first time she said it out loud and it felt as if another weight was taken off her shoulders.

"I understand."

She studied him, trying to figure out what he was thinking but he was a hard man to read. What she could see, however, was the kindness that reflected in his eyes. His words had been harsh, yes, but she knew that he didn't say to be malicious. That same strange tingling feeling came over her again. It wasn't bad but it wasn't good either, at least as far as she could tell.

"Well, I need to be going."

"Would like for me to join you? It's a long and dangerous path to New Adeline. If we leave now, we can make it out of Murfree country by sundown."

She thought about it, then agreed. He was good in a fight and a better outdoorsman than she. Maybe with his help, she'd make it to her destination in one piece.

"Come on then, let's get out of here. The smell of this town is getting to me," she said.

They rode together as fast as their steeds would take them. By sundown, they'd passed the Grizzlies and continued on towards open plains. Nila Tanner felt the wind in her hair and her heart giddy as she and her new traveling companion raced across the valley.


	3. No Indians

All the bouncing in the saddle hurt her arm. Now as their horses walked towards New Adeline, it throbbed and her sling caused her neck to cramp. She tried lessening the presser by lifting her right arm, but pain forced to relax it and her neck kept hurting. With her good arm, she tried massaging her neck to feel better, but it didn't work.

An hour earlier, the tonic Charles made from ginseng and yarrow, wore off and she was afraid to ask for more. As they traveled through the valley, she kept a lookout for such herbs but didn't have any luck. Charles seemed to have an eagle eye for it. When he saw something he thought would be useful, he'd stop, pick it, and place it in his saddlebags, before they continued on their journey.

"How's your arm?" he asked as New Adeline came into sight.

"Better," she said.

"The tonic helped?"

She nodded.

They came to a hill that overlooked the city. She was hours late, but it wasn't dark yet and there was a chance the morgue was still open. If they hurried, they could make it in time. It looked overwhelming from far away. The only big city she visited was Saint Denis, and it was a nightmare to navigate through.

"It wasn't this big last time I passed through," Charles commented.

"You've been here before?"

"About six years ago. It was a lot smaller than."

Progression, at least in an urban sense, was growing at a fast pace and it made Nila uneasy. How much more land would the white man need before it satisfied him? Would cities one day engulf each other? The thought of no longer touching grass with her bare feet saddened her.

She looked at the lights down below, feeling a mixture of anger and anxiety. Those people down there would rather choke on the smoke that billowed from the factory stacks and bumped elbows with other people than be out in the open prairie with fresh air. She thought they were odd and stupid creatures for it.

"I don't like crowds," she said.

"Neither do I but if this is something you must do, then let's get it over with."

The clip-clop of hooves on cobble was an odd sound to her. They passed horse buggies, train cars, and well-dressed folks. It was all overwhelming with discriminating eyes following them as trotted down main street. Eyota reared her head and sidestepped at the chime of a trolly. Nila patted her mare's neck and urged her onwards. A few shops were closing down for the evening and someone was already getting tossed out of a bar. She almost trampled the drunk but Eyota stopped in time. He yelled at the pair, his insults slurred before over against the wall of a general store. Nila shook her head.

Taking out a piece of paper, she read the address and looked at the streets signs. None of them said Galveston Avenue.

"Do you know where we're going?" Charles asked.

"Yes… and no."

He gave a doubtful look.

"I have the address, but not the directions."

He sighed and stopped his horse. "Let's ask around then."

She dismounted and hitched her horse. The first man she approached turned up his nose at her before she could even ask where the morgue was located. She was about to say something, but Charles grabbed her by the arm.

"Don't cause trouble. They have little patience with us," he said.

He was right sadly. "It's the first person I've tried interacting with and he snubbed me!"

"You act surprised."

"I'm not, it's just… ah hell, I don't know. I'm tired and sore and I want this over with."

One person after another turned them away. Some politely declined, others made threats, but mostly, they pretended the two Indians didn't exist. It was frustrating and Nila's patience was quickly wearing thin. Charles, however, remained calm and reserved. How he could do this was beyond her.

Seeing a police officer, Nila decided asked him for help. She was nervous, knowing how discriminatory they could be. Suppose he tried hurting or arresting her? The closer she got, the more her feet felt like lead and she wanted to turn away. The officer, however, caught sight of her approaching him and he watched her suspiciously. Beside her, Charles' arm brushed against her good one, reminding her he was beside her. Just knowing he was there gave her enough courage to keep going.

"Excuse me, uh, officer?" She tried hiding the tremor in her voice.

"Yes?" he answered sharply.

She flinched at his tone, but immediately stood straighter and met his eyes.  _Never let a man make you feel lesser!_  Her mother once told her before she became the husk she was now.

"I need to find Galveston Avenue. I need to get to the morgue."

"Why?"

She wished she was more like those women who could cry on cue, making any man instantly feel sorry for her. Her best friend, Pauline, could do it. Men fell over themselves when she shed a tear.

"Her father passed away. He was here on business when he died," Charles chimed in.

The officer glared at Charles. "Don't speak unless asked,  _boy_. Now, what did you want?" He said, turning back to Nila.

She didn't need to see Charles to know he was bristling.

"I don't need help from someone like you!"

It wasn't a smart move; knowing that this man could throw her in jail just for that outburst alone, but she felt she had to say something. She turned on her heel, tugging at Charles to follow. The officer called after them, but they kept walking.

"He could've helped you," Charles said as they turned a corner.

"I didn't like the way he spoke to you."

They found a pub close by but stopped at the " **No Indians Allowed!** " sign. It wasn't uncommon in this part of the country. Most drinking establishments banned her people from entering their places. She heard out West it was more acceptable for her to drink at a bar but she wasn't sure how true that was. This was why she supported the ban on alcohol if only out of spite. If she couldn't drink why should they?

Not even an hour was spent in New Adeline and she hated this town. She couldn't wait to leave and be out in the land.

Another half hour passed before they came across a black man waiting outside a pub willing to help. Nila worried the man was lying but at this point, she was too tired and sore to care. She wanted to send the body back home and pretend Michael Daniels never existed.

They rode three blocks, almost running into people and buggies along the way. They were shouted at and their horses spooked easily. All the while Nila kept telling herself she hated cities. Charles stayed quiet as they made their way to the morgue. Judging by his expression, he seemed so calm and reserved. How could he be in such a nerve-racking place? The sights, the smells, and the sounds quickly overwhelmed her.

"We're almost there," Charles said over a train car's ringing.

"I hope so because I'm about to scream."

"Scream later, I see the building."

She thanked the creator and spurred her horse to hurry. Hitching her horse in front of the building, she dismounted and gave Eyota a pat for a job well done.

"I'll stay with the horses," Charles said.

"You're not coming with me?" Nila didn't know if she could do this by herself.

"I think it's best I stay out here."

Disappointed, she nodded and said: "That's fine. I shouldn't be long."

Stepping inside, she looked around for someone who could help. It had a homely feel to it and didn't smell of decay as she had feared. Her boots echoed as strolled over to the empty desk. She worried she was late, and they were closed until someone stepped out of a room. The man was short, barely taller than her. He was very thin and pale as if he'd never seen the sun before and his light blonde hair made him paler. She thought for a moment that this man was a ghost.

"Yes, something I can help you with?" he asked.

She cleared her throat and said, "My name is Nila Tanner and I'm here to claim my step-father, the last name is Daniels."

Something sparkled in the man's eyes, as though he wanted to laugh. "Ah yes, the one who died from… well… I'm sure you've heard."

"Yes, I know and I'm not surprised. Can we get this over with, please?"

"Of course."

She followed him out back and down the cold cellar where the bodies were stored. Now it smelled of death. Not rotting bodies, no, this was different. That smell that lingered when a sick person was knocking on death's door. Darkness enveloped her, making Nila shutter. If it wasn't for the mortician's lamp, they would be in pitch blackness.

"He's down here," the man said, pointing at the slab at the end of the room.

Taking off the sheet, she saw her step-father's cold, blue body. She grimaced at the sight of him, wishing for the hundredth time she wasn't here. Her heart leapt in her throat and pounded in her ears. She thought this moment would make her giddy with joy, but all she felt was guilt and terror. Would anyone ever know?

_Nila, hurry with my tea! It'll be a long trip for me. Nila, where is my tea?!_

_Wolfsbane is untraceable... that's what the lady by the river said._

"Well?" the mortician inquired, snapping her out of her trance.

"That's him alright."

"You sure?"

"Yes. Can I ship him off now?"

"Can't. We're closing soon and no one will want to take a body this late to Annesburg. You'll have to come back in the morning."

She huffed. "You can't be serious!"

"Maybe next time get here on time," he replied, turning away from her.

She scowled and opened her mouth to explain why she was late, but more than likely he didn't want to hear her "woe is me" tale. Signing, she thanked him and they left the cellar.

Fresh air hit her face, and she was grateful for it. She hoped she'd never need to see that body again. She went around the side, feeling frustrated and yet relieved. Charles was where she'd left him, except now two white men stood too close to him. It was hard to make out their features in the darkness. She stopped and listened, curious to know what they wanted.

"What makes you think you belong here,  _boy_?" one of the men said.

Nila glared, anger rising in her. There was that word again: boy. A simple word and yet, the way they said it was degrading.

"I'm not looking for trouble," Charles replied. "Now leave me be."

"He wants us to leave him be. Like my cousin wanted those Comanches to leave him be and what did they do? Trapped him in his house and burned him alive. Killed his livestock too. You people are worse than animals."

"I'm not Comanche."

"No, you ain't Comanche," the white man spat. "Just some mangy half-breed who wandered too far off the reservation."

She would not stand back and let these men push Charles around any longer even if she hadn't known him for very long. Stepping out of the shadows, she stormed over to the three men, startling them.

"What's going on here?" Nila said, standing in front of a man with brown hair.

The two white men laughed, irritating her more.

"Hold your tongue, girl. This doesn't concern you!" the brown-haired man said.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Nila hissed.

"Nila, get away from him," Charles said.

The man whose features Nila still couldn't see, snatched her by the injured arm and jerked her away from his friend.

"We said hold your tongue, bitch!" the second man said.

He twisted her injured arm until she cried out. "Let go!"

"Get your hands off her!" Charles growled.

The man laughed and spit at the ground. "Try something, you half-breed piece of shit."

Charles grabbed the man and pried him away from Nila. She stumbled back as he lifted the white man by his suspenders and threw him several feet with an ease that impressed Nila. The other man stood in shock at what he'd witnessed. His eyes flicked to his friend on the ground and then back at Charles. He glared at the pair of Indians who matched his stare. The man on ground looked up at all three but didn't attempt to move.

"Let's just leave, Mort. I think we've scared them enough," he said.

Mort hauled his friend to his feet and dusted him off. "You step foot in this town again, and we'll make you sorry."

"You won't do shit!" Nila said. "Men like you are all talk."

It felt as though she checked out of her mind and momentarily let someone else take over. In Blackwater, she rarely stood up for herself because it always led to things getting worse. Last time, she fought back they threw in her in jail while her assailant walked away with little consequences. When Michael bailed her out, she got it worse at home.

"You wait and see."

"Oh, I'm  _so_  scared!"

"We'll see how brave you are when your big, dumb, friend isn't around."

Mort and his friend left but not before giving one last intimidating glance at the pair.

Charles grabbed her arm. "Nila, that's enough. Let's go before anymore trouble starts."

"I'm not the one who threw the guy," Nila replied.

"Get on your horse and let's go."

She didn't need to be told twice. Despite the brave front she put on, inside she was shaken and it was possible the men saw too. If she were to make it, she had to gain a nerve or the world could swallow her alive. Her arm gave a throb, a reminder she had a long way to go.

* * *

The smell of fresh salmon filled the night air. Nila took small bites of her fish, though, what she wanted to do was rip into it like a half-starved alligator. Eating in front of others always made her nervous, even with those whom she was comfortable with. She briefly glanced Charles' way and found relief he wasn't watching her.

She didn't like when others watched her eat.

After the run in with the white men, they thought it was best to leave the city limits and come back first thing in the morning. Close to their campsite, the faint glows of porch light flicked from the lower income neighborhood that sat close to the lake. Thinking back to those bastards at the morgue, she wanted to see them walk through those neighborhoods and see how long they'd last.

"I've never had salmon before," she admitted.

"Really?"

"Salmon aren't local to Oklahoma. We mostly ate catfish and crappie. Sometimes gar, but I don't like that."

He turned the other fish on the fire and said, "Oklahoma... so that means you're one of the five tribes?"

"Mvskoke or Creek as the white man tend to call us. My mother's clan is  _Culvlvke_  -Fox Clan- and my father was  _Hotvlkvke_  -Wind Clan-. My people are matriarchal, which means I take the clan of my mother as did my father when he married her."

"Where is he now?"

She dug a heel in the soil and said, "He's dead. Some outlaw shot him in the chest."

"Oh… I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's okay, it wasn't you who took his life."

"Either way, it's difficult. I know how it feels to have someone taken from you."

"Who did they take?"

"My mother and my people." He paused to take a sip from his canteen before passing it to Nila. "My father and I went on the run after that. He drank a lot and eventually, the bottle took him. I've been on my own since."

"How long have you been running?"

"A long time," he replied. "Too many years to count."

She took a drink from the canteen and passed it back. "You don't have a home to call your own?"

He shook his head.

"Neither do I."

"Yes, you do."

"Not anymore! I'm on my own now. Free to make my own decisions in life."

"You still have a mother, which means you still have a home to go back to if needed be."

He met her gaze for the first time that night and she found her heart quicken in her chest.  _How odd, I've never felt like this before, but then again, I've never allowed it or more like no one else has ever allowed it. I like this feeling and I'm also scared of it. Why is it so conflicting?_

She looked up at the sky, hoping to slow her heart and force away the emotion for now. She focused on the twinkling stars, thinking of her mother at that moment. When Nila was a small child, she and her mother star gazed, finding shapes in them and making up stories about the stars. In later years, they did this, but no longer did they make up stories. The imagination in the older woman fizzled out and Nila knew why. Was her mother out there right now looking up at the stars, too?

_Don't start feeling bad now. It's all her fault, anyway._

"I guess you're right, but I don't think I can go home. It's too bleak there."

"I can understand that," he said, turning the fish over on the fire. "How's your arm?"

She moved her hand, but her shoulder and bite wounds still ached. "Sore and stiff. I hope I don't get gangrene from these bites."

"As long as we keep the bandages clean and the salve on, your arm will heal."

She finished her fish and took another. "I'm glad you came along. It's nice to have company on my travels. Do you have a specific destination?"

He shrugged. "Not really. I just go where ever. Spent time in Canada until four months ago."

"Is it true what they say about Canada being better for our people?"

Glancing her way, he said, "They were only rumors. I'd say Canada can be worse in some places."

_I don't think I'll be visiting the Yukon anytime soon._

"What about Oklahoma?" Charles asked. "I heard it's better than other places."

"In some ways. We can own land and businesses, and we have territories that belong to us, but…" she wasn't sure how to explain the next part. "But I feel we've thrown ourselves down river for it. I saw my cousins trade our beliefs for the white man's church, I saw mothers cut their children's braids, and father's forbid their languages in the households. Oklahoma was supposed to be  _ours_. My hometown belonged to the Mvskokes but whites have taken it over and we're shoved to the side. That being said, I miss my hometown and I miss my cousins. Did I face prejudice in Oklahoma? Yes, sometimes someone hurled insults our way, but I'd take it over West Elizabeth any day. In Blackwater, I wasn't allowed to fight back when some peckerwood threatened me." She stopped, noticing she'd rambled again. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ramble on you. I've kept this bottled up for so many years that I… I don't know."

"It's fine. I don't talk much myself. Don't have a lot to say, really. Why don't you go back to your hometown if you miss it?"

"Someday. First, I want to see what else is out there."

He studied her, looking as if he wanted to say something. When he didn't, she finished her meal then told him she would take the canteens and horses to the nearby stream.

* * *

Sleep didn't come easy to Charles that night. He tossed and turned as a thousand thoughts made his mind restless. The day was eventful, from Murfrees to bears and peculiar girl in between it all. Sitting up, he looked at Nila who was curled up in her bedroll. She hardly moved but sometimes she murmured inaudible things in her sleep.

It was a lie to say he didn't notice her looks when he saw her in Valentine. He was coming out of the post office with a bounty for the pelt of the bear when she stepped off the train. With her heart-shaped face, small round nose, bright, brown eyes, and long black hair braided back, it was hard to not notice her. She looked too innocent to be out and about by herself, but he learned early on looks could be deceiving. She passed by him, leading her horse, and without glancing at him before mounting up to ride off for the Cumberland forest. He thought he'd never see her again until later that night when he came across her camp. He watched her as she sat by the fire. Twice, she looked over her shoulder in his direction. It was then he went, knowing she could sense his presence.

Now here he was, with her sleeping not far from him and painfully reminding him of the loneliness he often felt.

It never bothered him at first. He enjoyed his solitude from everyone else, but after living with the Marstons for some time, he longed for a family of his own. Uncle found it odd Charles would want such a thing after witnessing several of John and Abigail's spats. However, it was during the much calmer times, such as sitting around the campfire, having supper, or listening to Jack talk to his parents about the latest book he'd finished that made him want what they had.

And he thought it found it in Canada, but the Métis woman he'd grown close to told him her family would never allow her to marry him because of his heritage. She didn't need to be blunt for him to know what she meant, but he still made her say it. Her words hurt him, but it wasn't surprising. He cut his losses, thankful his feelings were not as strong as they were. It didn't stop her brother from coming after him though and now her brother was dead by Charles' hands. No one knew what he'd done, but he left anyway, spacing out as much distance as he could from her and her family.

He lied back down, knowing that dwelling on the past wouldn't do any good and watched the stars, waiting for sleep to come, but it never did.


End file.
